


Mommy's Rocketship

by carma19



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 03:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19939747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carma19/pseuds/carma19
Summary: Beca and Chloe's son brings in a rather unexpected item for Show 'n Tell.





	Mommy's Rocketship

“Does it make _real_ boogers?” Andrew inquired--student #19 to ask a question for Shoshanna’s chosen object. 

The other five and six-year-olds giggled, all looking to their teacher for indication on whether or not Andrew’s question was _too_ inappropriate this time.

Sweet old Mrs. Jacobson, two years away from retirement, pushed her glasses up her nose and casually rocked in her purple-painted teacher chair situated at the front corner of her Kindergarten classroom carpet. The carpet held colorful, evenly-spaced spots for the class’ 21 students, all sitting ‘criss-cross applesauce’ in organized rows during their weekly afternoon “Show ‘n Tell”. The seasoned educator heaved a heavy sigh at the little boy, but motioned to Shoshanna with a nod. “Yes, dear. You may answer that.”

Shoshanna clutched her “Baby Alive” doll, still giggling. “No, Andrew. She doesn’t make _real_ boogers!” 

Mrs. Jacobson nodded sagely. “All right, everyone. There’s one left to ask a question and then everyone will have participated.” The class had been doing so well in learning the importance (and for some, the difference) in asking who, what, where, when, and why questions. “Carmen?”

Carmen blinked up at Shoshanna. “What’s the baby’s _middle_ name?”

“Oh!” Mrs. Jacobson beamed. “That’s a _great_ question, Carmen. Shoshanna?”

Shoshanna hugged her doll. “Her middle name is Princess Narwhal!” 

“Okay children, there you have it,” Mrs. Jacobson said. “Thank you to Shoshanna, and her special guest Diana Princess Narwhal, and to all of you for your _fascinating_ 20 questions. Do you see how much more we learned by asking questions?” The students nodded, and Mrs. Jacobson continued. “We have one more for today. Logan? Would you like to go fetch your Show ‘n Tell object from your cubby?”

Logan Mitchell-Beale shot to his kid-sized hightop Converse, curly red hair flopping into his eyes. He hurried over to his cubby and returned with a Target bag, standing in front of the class. 

“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart,” his teacher prompted, snagging a pile of papers from her desk that needed grading along with a red pen. 

Logan beamed his wide, toothy smile as he reached into his Target bag and produced the coolest thing he’d _ever_ seen. The object was kinda shaped like a banana but purple instead of yellow and the bottom was shiny, and it had these awesome buttons and this extra part that kinda looked like the purple banana grew a foot or something. 

(It was _so cool_.)

The class also seemed to think so, a chorus of “Ooooooh!” erupting from the crowd. 

“This is my rocketship,” Logan declared, holding it out for further inspection. 

Mrs. Jacobson furrowed her brow, slowly cocking her head to the side but shrugging off her confusion. _Kids and their high-tech toys these days_ , she reasoned, not fully paying attention anymore, admittedly, with the pile of papers on her lap to grade while the kids continued the activity. “Go ahead and call on people to ask you questions, Logan.” 

Logan pointed at Sammy.

“Where does the rocketship go?”

“My rocketship goes everywhere in space! Probably to the sun, every single planet, and the Milker Way.”

“Milky Way,” Mrs. Jacobson gently corrected, her red pen gliding down the paper in front of her.

Raven raised her hand and Logan pointed at her. “Did you get the rocketship for your birthday?”

“No,” Logan said. “I… I borrowed it from my mommies’ room.” He quickly called on Dakota before he had to answer any follow-up questions about _that_.

“What’s that part on the side?” he asked, his eyes locked on. (Dakota definitely wanted a cool rocketship like that for Christmas.)

“Oh!” Logan pointed to the foot-like part sticking out of the side near the bottom. “That’s where the astronauts board the rocketship.” He called on Brianna next.

“What do all those buttons do?”

Logan beamed. “Oh, that’s what makes the rocketship blast off. Watch this!” He clicked some of the buttons and the rocketship _roared_ to life, the low buzzing sensation tickling his hand and loud enough for his classmates to hear. “It’s got all kinds of rocket fuel, so it can go like this--” He pushed another button, which added a cool pulsing effect the whole class could hear on a rhythmic beat. (Kinda like Mommy’s awesome soundboard, but Logan knows _that_ is definitely off limits.) “Then, when it needs to burst through the atmosphere, you can turn _this_ knob and--” the buzzing cranked up to full speed; Logan giggled when it tickled his hand even harder. 

Mrs. Jacobson’s gaze snapped back to Logan, her expression one of confusion… morphing into horror. “That’s quite enough for today! Logan, please--please _power down_ your rocketship--” 

Logan frowned. “But I was only on question four, Mrs. Jacobson.”

“You’ll be able to finish tomorrow. With a _different_ item.” She hastily motioned to the ‘rocketship’. “Put that back in your bag, please, and give it to me. I’m sure your mothers won’t be thrilled to find out you took something without permission.” 

The little boy hung his head. Mrs. Jacobson was right. He _had_ taken it without asking… even though he was totally gonna put it back when he got home!

When the bell rang an hour later, Mrs. Jacobson took her class outside to dismiss the children to their guardians. She held tight to Logan’s hand, the Target bag in her other. “Who’s picking you up today, Logan?”

Logan squinted. “Mommy, I think.” After a beat, he pointed off into the distance. “There she is! Can I go now??”

“Not yet.” Mrs. Jacobson followed Logan’s pointer finger and spotted one of Logan’s mothers--the dark-haired one with the tattoos and headphones seemingly glued around her neck--waving her over.

Beca approached cautiously, her eyes flickering between her son and his teacher. _Great._ Figures today’s her pick-up day and Chloe’s working late at the clinic tonight; Beca was never great with the on-the-spot parent-teacher conference thing. (She may have high-fived Logan for shoving a bully down the slide earlier in the school year, earning an admonishing glare from said teacher.) Still, she ratcheted up her smile. “Hey, Mrs. Jacobson! What’s up?” 

“Your son,” she started, cutting a glance to Logan, who hung his head and scuffed the toe of his Converse against the blacktop. “Brought in an item for Show ‘n Tell that I thought I should return to you or your wife directly, Ms. Mitchell.” 

Beca blinked. Okay, so he didn’t punch anyone. That was probably good, right? Confusion etched in her brow as she accepted the proffered Target bag from Mrs. Jacobson, peering inside and--

“ _Holy shit_.” The breathy swear flew out of her mouth before she could stop herself and her eyes snapped back to the elderly woman, cheeks blazing. “Um. Right. So. Okay. Chloe and I--we’ll definitely, uh--we’ll handle it. Yep. C’mon, kid. You’re grounded for eternity.” She took Logan’s hand and stormed off, with her son running on little legs to keep up. Only a few paces away she realized she hadn’t apologized and she called back over her shoulder. “Sorry about that, Mrs. J!” 

They walked in silence for a block and a half, Beca’s mind reeling. Jesus, she held her son’s hand in one of hers, and _one of their vibrators_ in a fucking Target bag in her other hand. Parenting was so fucking insane sometimes.

“How long’s a turnity?” Logan asked, breaking the silence.

“What?” Beca frowned.

“A turnity. You said I’m grounded for a turnity.”

“Oh.” Beca sighed. “Eternity means forever. You’re not grounded forever, I just didn’t know what to say to your teacher. She kinda scares me.”

A weak grin spread on Logan’s face. “Yeah, she can be scary. Especially when Andrew is bad.” 

“Mmm.” Beca glanced down at her son. “Do you know why I’m upset?” 

Logan’s face fell. “‘Cause I took your rocketship without asking.”

Beca swallowed hard. “Yeah. You know you’re not allowed to go through mine or Mama’s drawers. We’ve talked about this before.” She shook her head. “You’re still in trouble, but I need to consult with Mama before we figure out what the consequence is gonna be, okay?” 

Logan whimpered. “Okay.”

“Hey,” Beca said, squeezing her son’s hand. “I still love you even though I’m upset right now. You know that, right?”

Logan nodded, tears swimming in his bright blue eyes. “M’sorry I took your rocketship, Mommy.” 

Beca stopped walking. She crouched in front of her kid and pulled him in for a hug. “Don’t do it again, okay? Me and Mama… we have our own… toys…” She grimaced. “... and they’re not for kids. You’ll understand later and thankfully grow up to repress this horrific memory.” 

Logan nodded again even though he didn’t totally understand every word his Mommy said, hugging back while being very careful he didn’t crush Mommy’s headphones. 

Five hours later, after Beca made dinner for herself and Logan, helped him in the bath, and tucked him into bed, she stood at the foot of their king sized bed and recounted her disastrous encounter with Mrs. Jacobson.

Chloe _howled_ , doubling over with laughter and cackling for a solid minute and a half. Seriously, she looked like she was seconds away from peeing herself.

Beca shot her an unamused look, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s been almost two solid minutes. You might pass out if you don’t get enough air in your lungs. And you’re the medical professional between us so if that happens, you’re screwed.”

Wiping her eyes and blotting her reddened cheeks with the hem of her lavender scrubs, Chloe’s belly laughter finally subsided into giggles and she straightened up. “Oh, god. I’m sorry, baby. That’s just--that’s the funniest thing I’ve _ever_ heard.” 

“It was mortifying,” Beca grumped. “You wouldn’t find it so funny if you had to face Mrs. Jacobson.” 

Chloe wrinkled her nose with empathy and nodded, placing her hands on her wife’s shoulders and leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You’re right. I’m sorry. He _knows_ he’s not allowed in here without one of us present.” She raised a brow. “You scolded him, right?”

“Oh, definitely. Yep.” Beca nodded firmly. “I was Bad Cop for sure. Told him he lost all videogame privileges, his toys are going in the trash, we’re gonna lock him in the basement for a few days…”

Chloe arched a brow, pursing her lips together. “Mhm. Baby, you couldn’t be Bad Cop if you tried.” Chloe kissed Beca’s cheek, grinning all the while. “It’s okay. We’ll have another serious talk with him over breakfast. Losing videogame privileges for the weekend sounds appropriately torturous for a five-and-a-half-year-old, but we can figure that out for sure tomorrow.” 

Beca nodded, letting her arms fall out of their protective stance as her hands settled on Chloe’s waist. “What are we gonna do about _that?_ ” She nodded toward the Show ‘n Tell Target bag she’d left on the dresser. “‘Cause I’m never touching that thing again after our son’s hands--oh god, and Mrs. Jacobson’s hands--” Disgust morphed onto her face and she shivered for effect. “--have been on it.”

Chloe burst out laughing once again but reined it in after a few seconds. “Bec, we’ll clean it thoroughly. It’ll be fine.” 

“Nope.” Beca shook her head. “Never again. Toss it in the trash. I’ll buy a new one.” 

“If you insist,” Chloe said, shaking her head, clearly unable to wipe the smile from her expression. She stepped back and tugged her scrub top over her head, tossing it into the laundry basket before pulling the drawstring of her matching bottoms so they pooled at her feet. “I’m gonna shower before bed. Maybe you’d like to join me?”

Beca’s eyes popped wider and she smirked. “Yeah, that sounds pretty excellent after this shitshow of a day.” 

Chloe hummed in agreement. “If you wanna bring one of our _other_ rocketships along, I wouldn’t be mad about it.” She tossed her wife a wink and disappeared into their bathroom, turning on the shower spray. 

Beca rolled her eyes and headed over to their toy chest, selecting a rocketship of a different make and model.

She couldn’t resist.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic inspired by [this video!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCE7eR2sCPw)
> 
> All feedback is appreciated! Connect with me on Tumblr @ starlightscape. :D


End file.
